Moonchild

“So how did you learn floriography, anyway?” Seokjin asks one night.

Jimin snuggles into the Gryffindor pile of pillows (they’re at Hoseok’s chamber now) and frowns a little. “I remember bits and pieces. I think . . . there was a kid I never really met who kept sending me different flowers when I was still at that crappy orphanage.”

“Aww,” Hoseok puts on a Slytherin scarf he stole from Yoongi the other day. “How cute.”

“Hyung!” Jimin complains and throws a pillow at Hoseok’s general direction. “But I think no one else knew he existed except for me.”

Namjoon leans forward, looking interested. “I’m interested,” He announces. “Tell us the story.”

Jimin sighs. “Okay, here goes . . .”

The first time Jimin sees the mysterious boy is also his last.

Jimin calls him “Moonchild” because his eyes look like they hold all the secrets of the universe and are always staring at the sky, looking upwards as if he really belongs up there. He glows under the moonlight and is always wearing black, gray, and white, like he’s doesn’t belong in the modern world.

Jimin likes to watch people through the bay window of the orphanage because all the other kids don’t want to play with him (“His hair is so weird,” a kid complained in Jimin’s face once. “It changes color and looks super ugly.”). The teachers show clear disgust towards him, which Jimin has gone used to.

One day he’ll have to leave the orphanage because all the kids here get kicked out after they turn sixteen, which means he still has seven years. This is all he always thinks about whenever he comes to this bay window to watch passerby, but not today.

His attention is immediately zeroed on this boy passing by it.

Their gazes meet. Moonchild stops in his tracks and his parents stop to see what’s wrong.

They’re talking, but Jimin can’t hear anything they say. Moonchild’s mouth moves, but his eyes never leave Jimin’s.

“C'est l'heure du dîner!” A teacher shouts at the door of the room. Jimin flinches and turns to see kids around him squealing and running to the door, clearly excited for dinner.

Jimin doesn’t want to leave. He wants to watch Moonchild watching him and draw a crayon picture with him. He wants a friend and Moonchild looks like the perfect one.

Moonchild gaze flies to the teacher behind Jimin and comes back. He stares intently at Jimin and doesn’t even realize it when his parents start pulling him away.

“Dîner! Maintenant!” The teacher calls. Jimin ignores her this time.

Moonchild manages to give him a small smile before he disappears into the crowd in Paris with his parents. Jimin manages to smile back a little before the boy disappears.

Jimin sighs when Moonchild leaves and drags himself to dinner.

Jimin starts waking up to mysterious and sticky notes since that day.

The yellow sticky notes are apparently invisible to everyone but Jimin, because the first one he sees is stuck on the mirror on the kids’ shared bathroom.

Remember to smile today, too.

It’s in English, which is alright for Jimin. He can read simple English but is rubbish with speaking and listening.

It’s written in beautiful cursive, elegant and big. Under the words is a big pink heart cut out from another paper. There’s no signature, but Jimin has a feeling that it’s Moonchild from yesterday who left it there.

Did Moonchild break into the orphanage just to give him a sticky note? It’s kind of creepy and Jimin hopes Moonchild isn’t a creep, but this note is so sweet. No one’s ever done this kind of thing to Jimin before.

He feels loved.

The second time he sees another note, he finds it on the dining table. All the kids eat together, so the table is really long. Jimin finds the sticky note beside his plate, as if Moonchild knows exactly where he always sits.

Stop skipping meals. It’s not healthy :(

Jimin tries to stay up all night one day. He’s going to catch Moonchild sneaking into the orphanage and confront him, maybe give him a big hug too, but Moonchild never appears. Jimin still finds another sticky note on his bedside lamp the next day.

The stars are beautiful tonight. Do you see them too?

Jimin scrambles to the bay window and presses his cheek to the cold glass. Moonchild is right; the stars are indeed beautiful, clear and shining brightly in the night sky.

Then Moonchild starts bringing flowers. Jimin is walking back to his dorm after finishing math class when he notices a vase of flowers sitting on his bedside table.

Got this from the flower shop and thought of you. This is saffron crocus, which means mirth in floriography.

Jimin’s eyes turn back to the flower. They’re six-leaved soft lilac flowers with slightly darker veins and long yellow stamens. They’re so soft they look like they’d break with the slightest touch.

So from then on, Moonchild would bring him different flowers every other day and use those sticky notes to tell Jimin the flower’s name and the floriography meaning. Their smell fills up the place and brings color and life to the dull dorm.

Jimin starts looking forward to the flowers and notes.

On Christmas, Moonchild leaves a big lunchbox of food on Jimin’s bedside table and, of course, a sticky note. Jimin can smell the food inside from a mile away and his mouth immediately waters, but he reads the note before opening the box.

I don’t know what you like, but here’s a Christmas present. Everyone deserves a good Christmas meal.

Jimin excitedly zips open the lunchbox with slightly trembling hand and finds a plate of perfectly toasted turkey that smells so good up close. It’s probably the best meal he’s ever had in his life.

Jimin’s smile doesn’t fade for another week. He still can’t believe that Moonchild, a complete stranger, still likes him and cares for him after all these months. He can’t believe there’s someone out there trying to make him happy.

Then one day, Moonchild leaves a giftbox, a vase of new flowers, and, as always, a sticky note, this time a big one, on the giftbox.

Jimin grins as he reaches for the note, but when he reads it, his grin disappears immediately.

I’m leaving for school soon, so I won’t be able to write to you anymore. My parents died a few weeks ago and I need time to cool down before the semester starts. It’s been great writing to you, and although you might not know it, you helped me through the most difficult times. Thank you, truly.

He peels off the note and finds the second one underneath.

This is my favourite book. I hope it inspires you like it inspired me.

Jimin gasps out loud and almost knocks the vase of pastel blue flowers over. He finds the third sticky note on the vase:

Mouse-eared scorpion grass. Forget me not.

Jimin’s hand flies to his mouth to stifle the cry and tears start flowing down his cheeks. He’s always been a sensitive person, but this is the first time he ever gets this emotional.

He unwraps the gift with trembling hands and finds the book with a worn cover and the title Demian.

Moonchild lost his parents? Jimin feels like he should do something in return. Moonchild had been there when Jimin needed a friend, so shouldn’t Jimin return the favor? But he doesn’t know who Moonchild is or where Moonchild lives. There’s no way Jimin would find him.

He flips through the pages absent-mindedly. It’s filled with margin notes and doodles made by Moonchild, written in the same neat handwriting Jimin has become familiar with. Then his fingers touch something other than the book’s paper.

A secret sticky note.

Jimin’s teary eyes widen. There are only five words, but these five words reveal a whole new world for Jimin. Suddenly, everything makes sense.

Do you believe in magic?

Does he believe in magic?

Every day in his life he dreams of miracles. And one day, when he was around two or three, he realized that he could change his appearance, be it hair, eyes, facial features, or body shape, at will and sometimes according to his emotions. He knows there’s something out there that makes him different. Can that be magic? Sure.

Moonchild. Jimin has always known that it’s Moonchild who sends the notes and gives him flowers. Their encounter was completely accidental. Those sticky notes are invisible to all but Jimin. Can that be magic?

Jimin grabs a pen, and, after a moment of hesitation, scribbles his answer under Moonchild’s words.

Yes.

“I love the stars,” Jimin says as he lays down on the grass. Namjoon awkwardly follows suit, and Jimin smiles internally. “That’s why I go to the Astronomy Tower all the time. I love to think that there are so many unknown things out there waiting for us to learn. Your world may be just in a cauldron, Joonie hyung, but my world is out there.”

“To be honest, I never loved Potions as much as you love Astronomy,” Namjoon says, scratching his head. “I like thinking about potions, but not making them.”

“Someday, if you invent a potion with stars in it, I swear I’ll try my best to pass Potions.” Jimin sucks at potions because he hates following dull procedural rules (and he can never remember them word for word). Even if he tries his best, there’s still a chance he’ll fail it.

“Someday, I’ll brew a potion that contains a million galaxies in it.” Jimin closes his eyes happily and imagines Namjoon smiling his adorable dimpled smile. Just a moment ago, Jimin had been a little scared of Namjoon’s outburst. But now Jimin knows that underneath the hard exterior, Namjoon has a big fluffy heart, just like Yoongi. “There will be a million galaxies, nebulae, asteroids, and planets. The potion’s going to be pitch black, but if you look closer, you’ll see stars embroidered in the night sky. You’ll see your entire universe.”

“That sounds like the lyrics from one of our songs,” Jimin softly inhales Namjoon’s scent. He can smell it all day and not get tired of it. “It’s called Mikrokosmos. You should listen to it sometime.”

“I will. I’ll brew you a potion with every flower in the Victorian Language of Flowers. It can make you smell the most beautiful scents and see most beautiful dreams,” Namjoon replies quietly.

Did he just say flowers?

Memories come flooding into his mind, making his brain to momentarily shut down. Those flowers that were always greeting him in the later years of his time at the orphanage. Moonchild had taught him all about floriography, the Victorian Language of Flowers.

“I know floriography,” Jimin says simply in the end. “Do you know what flower I would give to you right now?”

Namjoon shakes his head no.

“Globe amaranth,” Jimin says, remembering that day from a few years ago when some kids at the orphanage pulled off his beanie and laughed at his changing hair color. Jimin had cried himself to sleep that day and woken to find these flowers on his bedside table. “Unfading love.”

“And I’d give you ambrosia,” Namjoon says, completely unaware to what’s in Jimin’s mind. “Love returned.”

“Cedar leaf,” Jimin says. Moonchild had brought him a baby cedar tree with Christmas ornaments adorning it in Christmas Eve. The tree never seems to grow up. “I live for thee.”

“Milk vetch,” Namjoon continues. “Your presence softens my pains.”

“Four-leaved clover,” Jimin says. Moonchild had never given him this, but after reading the flower dictionary a few years after then Jimin found out that it was the only plant Moonchild never gave to him. “Be mine.”

Namjoon’s eyes are blown impossibly wide, seemingly at a loss of words. Jimin chuckles.

“Tell me about other potions you’ll make,” Jimin says, shivering a little from the cold.

Namjoon drops the topic easily, but Jimin’s mind is still lingering at the flowers and Moonchild and the stars. “I’ll brew you another potion with all the sweetest and most colorful music notes and melodies in it . . .”

Jimin watches silently as Namjoon rambles on, staring as the Slytherin student glows under the moon light. What he said earlier about meeting Namjoon was like experiencing retrouvailles is exactly what Jimin is feeling right now. He feels like he’s known Namjoon for a lifetime at the same time he doesn’t know him at all.

“Hold on for a second,” Hoseok interrupts, a skeptical frown over his face. “Hold on for a goddamned second.”

“What? I’m not even done yet,” Jimin raises a finger to his lips to shush Hoseok. “So Joonie hyung awakened that memory by mentioning the flowers . . .”

“Have you seriously not connected the dots yet?” Seokjin cuts in. He looks like he’s in the middle of an existential crisis. “I did not raise you like this, Jimin Park.”

“What?” Jimin pouts. Taehyung lets out a dramatic sigh.

Jimin is seriously confused. Isn’t he the one telling stories?

Namjoon is completely silent the whole time, like he’s debating whether he’s going to interrupt or not. “Jiminie,” He says, his voice low.

“Yeah?” Jimin turns towards Namjoon, who won’t meet his gaze.

“I can’t believe it. It was you.” Jimin doesn’t remember seeing Namjoon’s eyes that big before.

“Oh my god, the drama,” Jungkook laughs, clapping happily and sending suggestive looks at Jimin. “I’m loving it. Even I know what’s going on.”

“You guys are bullying me.” Jimin pouts even harder. “Just tell me what’s going on!”

“Namjoon-ah is Moonchild.” Yoongi says curtly and rolls his eyes hard. “You guys were childhood friends.”

The room goes silent. Jimin inhales sharply.

“AAAHHHHHHH!!” Jimin screams at the top of his lungs and launches himself into Namjoon’s arms, scaring the Slytherin boy so much that he lets out an out-of-character squeak. “IT WAS YOUUU!! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL MEEEE??”

“I didn’t know!” Namjoon is half-crying and half-laughing now. Jimin himself is no better. “I only realized it when you were half way through your story.”

“Two idiots.” Taehyung successfully summarizes the story.

“You tell them, Taehyung.” Hoseok grumbles, but a big heart-shaped smile is adorning his face.

“What did I do wrong to have to live with you dumbasses?” Yoongi covers his face with his two big hands.

“Hyuuuung,” Jimin drags out the word and muffles his voice with Namjoon’s big hoodie. He’s pretty sure he’s blushing like crazy now. “I’m so embarraaaassed.”

“There’s no need, Jiminie.” Namjoon smiles down at him like a wise father. “You were so cute when you were little. Please don’t hate me if I tell you I took some pictures of you sleeping, though. You were really, really cute.”

“You’re so creepyyyyy,” Jimin’s pout intensifies.

Namjoon looks seriously alarmed and is so flushed Jimin immediately laughs it off, telling Namjoon that he doesn’t mean it. Namjoon might be a genius, but he’s pretty novice at processing emotions.

“Did you read my reply, though?” Jimin changes the subject. “That I believed in magic?”

“Of course I did.” A piece of old sticky note that’s no longer sticky appears into Namjoon’s hand out of nowhere. The note is wrinkled with age, but the words are still there.

Do you believe in magic?

Yes..

Now that he thinks of it, Jimin silently curses his younger self for the messy handwriting. His is so childish compared to Namjoon’s, which is all neat and beautiful.

“I still have that book somewhere in my chamber,” Jimin confesses. “I made my own notes too, but they’re nowhere as deep as yours, hyung.”

“That’s just plain subjective.” Namjoon shakes his head. “I’m sure when you re-read it now, you’ll feel differently than when you were a kid. This is why books are so awesome.”

“How did we go from flowers to sticky notes to books?” Taehyung asks the question of the day.

“Since when did we have any idea what we’re doing?” Hoseok scoffs.

“I’m still so confused.” Taehyung sulks and crosses his arms on his chest. “Wasn’t that super obvious two seconds into Yoongi’s story? How did it take that long?”

“Sit you ass down, drama queen. You ain’t special.” Yoongi drowns himself in the sea of pillows. The maknae line has a habit of bringing pillows from their own chambers whenever they have little rendezvous like this, so now Hoseok’s bed has Hufflepuff pillows from Taehyung, Ravenclaw pillows from Jimin, and Gryffindor pillows from Jungkook.

Jimin promptly ignores all the background bickers and focuses on Namjoon. Just Namjoon. “I made all those flowers into dried ones to put on DIY bookmarks and printed your notes on them. I used to find books to read just to see those bookmarks between the pages and take aesthetic pictures.”

“So I indirectly and unknowingly made you a studious person?” Namjoon quirks an eyebrow. “Should’ve sent you flashcards for potion ingredients or spell incantations instead of flowers then.”

“Noooooo,” Jimin punches Namjoon’s chest lightly. “I’ll show you someday. I’d never leave those pretty things in that stupid place.”

“Never thought you guys were this close,” Seokjin flops down onto the bed beside Namjoon and threads his fingers between his lover’s.

“So you called me Moonchild back then?” Namjoon asks, seemingly pretty interested in that nickname.

Jimin smiles at how he made up that nickname. “Yeah. Your eyes were so bright and you were wearing black and gray and white, like the moon. You looked like you didn’t belong in this planet.”

“That’s so poetic,” Namjoon says thoughtfully. There’s a little bit of wetness in his voice, and Jimin being Jimin immediately recognizes it as an about-to-cry alarm. Namjoon is such a big softy. “I’m gonna have to put that in some lyrics one day.”

“Moonchild, don’t cry.” Jimin mutters under his breath and lies down on the bed. He stares and smiles at the ceiling. “When moon rises it’s your time.”

“I’m just gonna pretend that sentence wasn’t grammatically incorrect.” Yoongi deadpans.

“Boom. Thank you for killing the mood.” Seokjin retorts sarcastically.

“Did that rhyme?” Taehyung wonders, always the one to focus on the wrong thing.

“That’s a double kill.” Jungkook notes.

“Guys, just shut up. Never thought I’d be the voice of this weird friend group.” Hoseok sighs heavily.

“Hey, Jimin?” Namjoon says from his side.

“Yeah?” Jimin replies. Someone takes his hand from his right and he doesn’t need to look to know that it’s Namjoon’s hand holding his.

“Do you know what nickname I gave you back then?”

“What is it?”

For some reason Namjoon takes a few moments to answer him. “Mochi.”

Jungkook chokes on his saliva and coughs like he’s sick with pneumonia. Seokjin breaks down laughing and bounces right up to catch his breath. Hoseok laughs too, but it sounds more like he’s screaming at the top of his lungs. Taehyung plays dead on the bed. Yoongi still maintains his image and acts indifferent, but Jimin can literally see him plotting for blackmail from the distance.

“Everything that’s said in the room stays in room.” Jimin tries to make his voice sound serious, but apparently his hair betrays him and turns into a golden color he can’t name.

“You don’t mean it,” Taehyung gives Jimin a thumbs up. “You rock, bro.”

“I hate you, hyung.” Jimin pouts at Namjoon.

“Nah, you don’t.” Namjoon grins shamelessly.

“. . . Yeah, I don’t.”

“You love me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Thanks.”

“Seriously? You’re not saying it back?”

“No.”

“I hate you hyung.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

“We’re back to square one.”

“I know.”

“…”

“I love you, Jimin.”

“See? It wasn’t that hard.”

“Fuck you.”